After that chaotic meal, I strolled down the corridor to help settle my food.

Sir Walpole, blessed with his natural talent for directions, walked beside me, while Linda and Shushruta trailed along behind.

…Ugh. Still heavy.

The discomfort in my stomach wasn’t entirely their fault. Truthfully, it had begun earlier.

Red-Eyed Devil. I’m looking forward to it. See you tomorrow.

Rutie’s smile, her wave, her tone—those words clung to me like a curse.

“….”

I couldn’t shake it. Not clearly enough to explain, but it bothered me.

I rubbed my stomach absently and asked, “Sir Walpole.”

“Yes?”

“Will the Royal Knights be there tomorrow?”

He gave me a look as if I’d asked whether the sun rises in the east.

“Of course. The king himself will attend.”

“Oh?”

“Didn’t I tell you? The ceremony is immediate. Once the duel ends, the victor is crowned on the spot.”

That’s right.

If the king was coming, then naturally the Royal Knights would as well.

Which led me to think of one man.

A man with hair the color of frost.

Will the Knight of Frost be there too?

I mulled it over. Of course he would. Even if the Heavenly Demon had bested him, he was still the kingdom’s strongest knight. Stronger, even, than those terrifying Royal Knights we’d faced yesterday.

Ashley had said the difference was one of rank.

“….”

Gratitude toward the Heavenly Demon welled up inside me again.

I had crossed swords with such a man and lived.

The Heavenly Demon’s voice cut across my thoughts.

[I’ll tell you again. There won’t be a second time.]

“Yeah, I know.”

[Don’t rely on miracles.]

“Miracles? You’re looking at a man who hates them most.”

“…What?”

“Not you, Sir Walpole.”

“Oh. Talking to yourself again.”

Even as I walked, her words kept echoing in my ear.

Red-Eyed Devil. I’m looking forward to it. See you tomorrow.

Arms folded, lips pressed, I thought.

Looking forward to what? Me crushing them? Or me being crushed?

No. That wasn’t it.

Her tone hadn’t been one of a bystander watching from the sidelines.

It was more as if—

“Ah, Lord Ashuban.”

I snapped from my thoughts at the sight of Count Starvanger approaching from the other end of the hall.

He beamed as he came closer. “What weighs so heavily on your mind?”

I shook my head. “Nothing. Just some nonsense.”

“Nonsense? What nonsense?”

He peered curiously, but I brushed it off and changed the subject.

“Nothing at all. More importantly—how do you feel, suddenly being called to fight tomorrow?”

He smiled faintly. “I’ve resolved to at least fell one foe. I cannot afford to disappoint His Highness.”

“I see.”

“My body may be rusty, perhaps half of what it was at my peak. Still, I’ve kept up my training. That will have to suffice. And tell me—did you enjoy the festival?”

My mind flashed to skewers smacking pompous noblewomen and golden rays of swordlight in a dark alley.

“…It was entertaining.”

“And?”

“…What?”

“You went walking with Lady Ashley, did you not? Alone.”

“Yes.”

“Well then?”

“…What exactly do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. How did you find her?”

“….”

So this was the man’s true concern. At first impression, he had seemed a dignified, weighty lord. But here he was, like any anxious father desperate to marry off his daughter.

The Count pressed eagerly.

“You walked together, shared street food, spoke of many things, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“And it seems you even dropped formalities.”

“Yes.”

“Then? What do you think of our Ashley?”

I sighed.

I could guess his reasons. Ashley had fixed her heart on her sword, declaring she’d only marry a man stronger than herself. The Count, on the other hand, feared she’d let her prime pass unwed.

I had seen her fight. She was strong. Brilliant. Finding a man stronger than her would be like finding a needle in a desert.

To him, I must have looked like the last chance. And a fine chance to bind Starvanger closer to me as well.

“Count. Tomorrow is the duel. Surely this isn’t the time.”

He chuckled easily. “What worry is there? Not when you’re with us.”

Ah yes. He had witnessed it himself—when the Heavenly Demon used my body to defeat the Knight of Frost.

So his calm came from faith in me.

I swallowed back another sigh.

“I, for one, can’t think of much beyond tomorrow’s duel.”

“Haha, you jest.”

“Not a jest.”

He laughed and left it at that, telling me to give him my answer after the duel was done.

He passed Walpole, Shushruta, and Linda with a genial greeting before continuing on, likely to pose the same questions to Ashley herself.

Watching him go, I muttered, “Tomorrow’s the duel, and that’s where his mind is?”

Walpole answered, “Don’t worry. Our lord was once a Royal Knight.”

My eyes widened. “Truly?”

“Yes.”

I turned to Shushruta for a second opinion. “Really?”

He nodded. “Indeed. Count Hermann Starvanger once wore the crest of the Royal Knights.”

“…So that’s why the Prince begged his aid.”

“He renounced the order and returned home to lead his house.”

“I see.”

I had expected him to be formidable—but to learn he had once been a Royal Knight? That was another matter entirely.

I asked, “Did our Count also have a title? Like Van Dyke the Iron Spear?”

Shushruta’s eyes followed Hermann’s retreating back as he explained.

“Gentle in daily life, but in battle he was said to become possessed, like another man entirely. They called him Hermann the Ghostly.”

“How did he fight?”

Walpole answered this time. “I’ve never seen it myself, but they say it was as if a ghost took hold of him.”

“…Really now.”

That kind, mild lord—fighting like a specter?

Hard to picture.

I glanced back when I realized Linda had gone quiet.

She was slumped against the wall, fast asleep on her feet.

Dinner, I realized, had been the evening meal. Darkness already pressed faintly against the windows.

I asked Walpole to guide me to Fluffy’s room and parted with him at the door—he needed to prepare for tomorrow’s duel.

I eased it open and peered inside.

Fluffy sat cross-legged in the corner, exactly as before, not a finger out of place. One hand still gripped Vlad. He was deep in breathing practice, as if locked in a serious conversation with the blade.

I had no wish to disturb him, so I shut the door and slipped into the next room.

Thanks to the Black Prince renting out the whole building for security, there were more rooms than we could use. I dangled Linda by the scruff, tossed her onto the bed, then sat on the floor and folded my legs.

Shushruta followed me in, and I said, “Shushruta.”

“What.”

“I’m going to cultivate my energy. You two sleep first.”

“Understood.”

He rolled Linda to one side of the mattress like a sack of laundry, curled up, and lay down.

I closed my eyes. My thoughts, as if they had been waiting, swarmed me.

The assassins who went after Ashley.

The Royal Knights who appeared at that delicate moment.

The killers who let themselves be taken without a fuss.

The Black Prince’s knights who’d vanished into thin air.

I let my imagination loose.

Our knights, waiting here under the Prince’s orders, keeping themselves in peak condition.

One day, assassins break in on them.

But our men are no pushovers—they fight back.

In the middle of the brawl, Royal Knights appear. Three of them.

While the killers throw their lives away to pin our knights down, the Royal Knights arrive.

And if the Knights decide to subdue them, what knight dares resist?

If those three stepped in, crushed them, and dragged them off somewhere…

If the Royal Order that should remain absolutely neutral inserted itself into the game…

Red-Eyed Devil. I’m looking forward to it. See you tomorrow.

Rutie’s words circled my ear again. Her tone had been sunny, but beneath it—steel.

She hadn’t sounded like someone planning to watch from the stands.

More like…

Yes. As if she were looking forward to fighting me.

But how?

Would the Royal Order truly interfere?

Would they crash a duel between the First Prince and the Black Prince?

Why? For what reason?

They were supposed to be neutral.

Would they break that? And if they did—what then?

And were those assassins truly the First Prince’s creatures?

No. Remembering how meekly they’d submitted, I couldn’t shake the sense they’d been on the same side all along.

If so, perhaps they’d come to snatch Ashley and then noticed me, and retreated.

The Royal Knights obey only the king, they’d said.

Then does that put the king behind all this?

My thoughts spun, a humming whirlpool.

My breath went ragged.

The Heavenly Demon cut through, his tone flat and final.

[Planning to let qi run riot? Settle it. Empty your head and breathe.]

I reined myself in at once.

I focused on the air entering my nose and leaving my mouth until my heart steadied.

Perhaps too quickly—sleep tugged at me. I slapped my cheek.

Smack!

[…Lunatic,] the Heavenly Demon muttered.

The drowsiness fled. I thought, calm and clear.

All right, say the Royal Order is involved.

So what?

My job doesn’t change.

Whether they interfere or not, whatever tricks they pull— tomorrow I put every last opposing knight on the ground.

And if the Royal Knights jump in, I break them too.

Schemes aren’t my problem.

As with most things in this world, the conclusion was simple.

Kill them.

No, not that.

Beat them within an inch of death and leave them down.

Better.

But that’s easier said than done.

Only today—after watching the Golden Flash and the Royal Knights—did I realize I’d let a weed of complacency root in my heart.

I’d been arrogant.

Some of the Demon’s mindset had rubbed off on me without my noticing, when my skill was nowhere near his.

Tomorrow I’m facing the finest in the kingdom.

Cursed prodigies, the ones at the very top.

Giants standing on peaks I could barely dream of.

When did I start looking down on them?

If I hadn’t gone out for that stroll—

if I’d walked into the duel with my old mindset—

I would have lost. Badly.

In the worst case, I might not have walked out at all.

Go into a fight loose like this, and you’ll lose the ones you should win.

Since when did a few victories make me proud?

Did I forget that momentum wins battles?

Idiot. Half-wit. Clown. What a farce.

Get a grip.

I slapped myself again. Crack. My head snapped to the side.

[Madman. Will that clear your head? Harder,] the Demon said dryly.

I gave myself two more and stopped. It hurt more than I’d expected.

A merciless man who spared even himself no quarter—here he was.

[Tsk, tsk… pathetic,] he said.

Cheeks throbbing, I sank into thought.

Oddly enough, the sting cleared my head.

I climbed out of my body and looked down from a step away.

Objectively—

my current strength isn’t enough to promise victory.

Against the Golden Flash alone, I can’t say I’d win with certainty.

If the Royal Knights truly step in, I’ll have no answer.

Yes, I’d dragged out the Blood-Red Full Moon against Frost—but I can’t count on a miracle like that again.

I have to get stronger.

Right now, my Night-Sky Star-Moon Art is at Crescent Moon.

If I deepen it to Half-Moon—or better, Full Moon—maybe I’ll have a chance.

So if I dive into cultivation right now and push hard until morning—

No.

I shook my head.

Enlightenment doesn’t come like that.

Martial arts don’t deepen that way.

I need a different path.

I asked the Heavenly Demon for help. “Master. Help me.”

If the Black Prince had a count, I had my own pouch of jerky—the Demon at my back.

He sounded almost pleased.

[You’ve come to understand a little. Yesterday you gawked at it like a fool, calling it magic.]

Fool, is it.

[In any case—good. Here’s your thread to follow.]

[In martial arts, there are such things as seasonal forms]

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